


A Little Like You

by lilithenaltum



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Inspired By Tumblr, MTV Movie Awards 2018, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: After breaking up with her unfaithful fiancé, marketing manager Tiffany decides that remodeling her home is the fresh start she needs. Under the recommendation of her friend and coworker, Stacy, she hires upstart interior designer Adam to give her home a new, personal look.Adam and Tiffany hit it off almost instantly and move from simply client and designer to become good friends. So when Adam needs a date to his sister's wedding, a wedding where his former girlfriend will be in attendance, he asks Tiffany to be his plus one, determined not to look like the desperate, sad ex boyfriend that everyone thinks he is.What they both don't expect is that friendship can turn into love and that love can be a lot different from what they initially had imagined.





	A Little Like You

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on this tumblr [ post](http://lilithenaltum.tumblr.com/post/175041726612/i-am-nothing-if-not-predictable-and-i-really-want) by soyeahso, and the following comments, of people wanting a rom com starring Adam and Tiffany. Of course, I'm not a Hollywood director and can't make movies happen, but I can write fanfic and I love a good rom com, so here we are! It's been a while since I dipped my toes in RPF. I'm gonna have some fun with this one.

“Wait!”

 

 _Wait my ass_ , Tiffany thinks, eyes dry and head high. She’d done her crying, enough of it that she didn’t think she even had tears left. And either way, a month was enough time to mope over some two bit lawyer loser who didn’t have the decency of telling her he wanted to see other people. No, he’d just up and decided to bring another woman into his bed-the bed she had picked out and had special ordered for him, the bed she’d helped him pay for before he passed the bar, the bed she’d spent Saturday afternoons in, wrapped up in his arms while they listened to old soul records.

 

 _That_ bed.

 

And that bed had had some red head named Alicia in it when she’d come over to surprise him that day, hands full of breakfast and a smile on her face. It was her way of apologizing for being so busy lately. She still can feel the crack in her heart when she caught the two of them, can still see the donuts scattered on the bedroom floor. She’d thrown her key at him and ran from the townhouse in tears and it had been a month of no contact so far.

 

But he’d found her at work, coming out of the office on her way home and hounded her down to ‘explain’. She didn’t want an explanation. She wanted him out of her fucking way.

 

“I’m sorry, Tiff! Look, it was just a one time thing, I promise.” Bullshit. “She was there and willing and you had that project…you know I always said those projects would get in our way, and you never did listen but look, I’m willing to overlook it all if you’d just-“

 

Wheeling around quick enough to cause whiplash, Tiffany narrowed her eyes and glared at him so hard she could have killed him where he stood if she had the powers.

 

“I really don’t give a good goddamn what you’re willing to do, Derek,” she said, her voice low and quiet and he backed up subconsciously. She only ever used that voice when she was really and truly upset and right now, she was beyond angry and drifting into incensed. “Get out of my face. Stay away from my job. Don’t call me. Don’t come looking for me. I don’t want you.”

 

She didn’t. She really, truly, honestly didn’t’. And that was the most refreshing thing of all, second only to the look on his face when she smiled, turned back around, and headed for the parking garage.

 

“Tiffany!” he yelled, standing like a fool in the middle of the sidewalk, but she didn’t even glance back. She shot him the bird and kept moving, a sway in her hips and her heels click clacking beautifully on the pavement. Fuck Derek. Fuck him to infinity.

 

If she broke down crying in the car on the way home, she wouldn’t ever tell anyone. Not anyone, even her best friends, because she knew they were almost more upset than she was that she’d dropped him. That was six years of her life that she’d never get back and most of them had been happy. At least she thought they’d been. She wasn’t really sure now. She only knew that there was an empty space where he’d been and she felt like she was floundering, lost adrift in a sea of people without the safety and familiarity of having him by her side.

 

But her grandmother had always said that every ending was a new beginning and it was with this attitude did she step out her car, wiping her eyes carefully so as not to screw up her mascara. She had an appointment with an interior decorator in thirty minutes and she didn’t want anyone seeing her tears, least of all a stranger.

 

Tiffany’s house was her pride and joy. She’d bought it three years before and had meant to have it decorated and customized to suit her personality ever since. But she hadn’t had much of a chance; making marketing manager in so short a time meant she was working double and doing extra to stay ahead. She loved her job. It was a different from the modeling gigs and acting jobs she’d taken during her twenties, but it was also more rewarding. Looks faded and time wasn’t kind to women in that industry. Even though she still considered herself young, Hollywood had found a way to make her feel old and used up and washed out.

 

So she’d said goodbye to Los Angeles seven years ago and never looked back. She still had friends out that way, of course, but no connections to that old life. After the divorce, she had promised herself she’d would get what she wanted out of love and out of life and thought she’d found that in Derek. He was so ambitious, so smart, and had liked her regardless of her blue collar upbringing. And within months, they were inseparable. But it had taken him four years to propose and in the two that they’d been engaged, he had avoided even talking about weddings or plans or moving in together. In hindsight, she considered it a blessing in disguise.

 

Tiffany ignored the urge to check her phone. The last thing she needed was to work herself up once more thinking about Derek. And she didn’t feel like dealing with Niecy or Jasmine either; they would only whine to her about giving him another chance when she knew good and damned well he didn’t deserve it. At least she had Stacy in her corner on that end. Her friend had told her that leaving was the best thing she could have done. “I’ve been there Tiff,” the older woman had said, thinking no doubt of her own first husband. “I tried over and over to make it work but he wasn’t worth the paper we’d signed when we married.”

 

And neither, Tiffany mused as she pulled into her driveway, was Derek. It was best she forgot him now.

 

Tiff cleaned up the place, an easy task living alone, and changed from her suit to something a bit more casual. She settled for camel colored slacks and a blush blouse, swept her hair up into a bun and put on the small pearls she’d been gifted after graduating from Spelman. Comfortable flats completed the look and she touched up her light makeup as she waited on the door to ring. And, just as she was pinning a stray curl back, she heard the chime that signaled the decorator’s arrival.

 

Driver Designs was one of the most well recommended interior design groups she’d found in the area. After catching wind that she wanted to redo her entire home, Stacy at work had called her into her office excitedly and insisted she use this particular guy. “He’s good, Tiff,” she’d said excitedly. “He somehow managed to come up with a design that both Ted and I like, and that is a literal miracle. He’s only been in the business for about five years, but he’s so good.” And it seemed like word of mouth was his mode of advertisement because there were no glossy advertisements in the design books or ads on Facebook and Instagram. Just a simple black and white card with the company name, his phone number, and the name A. Driver at the bottom.

 

Tiff had been a little wary of hiring someone who didn’t have a social media presence. Promotions and media was her business and the idea of someone not utilizing tools like those raised a few hackles as well as perplexed her. But maybe his work spoke for itself. She was going to look at samples today, and make a decision. There were tons more designers in the city if this didn’t work out; she knew most people rarely ever used their first choice anyway.

 

“I’m coming!” she called, taking the steps down from her bedroom two at a time and blowing out a breath in anticipation. _A fresh beginning, a new start._ That was all she needed, and she hoped that this guy, this A. Driver, had that for her. She put on her friendliest smile and opened the door, blinking in the March sunlight as the guy in her doorway turned to greet her. For a moment, a very long and awkward moment, her mind went completely blank and her jaw fell slack, and for the first time she was speechless.

 

But the man in her doorway smiled, crooked and warm, and a little shy too, and she could feel her whole body tingle in the best kind of way. God, he was beautiful. He didn’t look a thing like she’d thought he would.

 

“Ms. Haddish?”

 

And that voice…Jesus. It was deep and mellow and the right kind of delicious, the kind of voice you could get lost in. She swallowed, aware suddenly of how dry her mouth was and how fast her pulse was racing. All she could do was nod dumbly. His smile seemed to widen.

 

“Oh good! I was hoping I had the right house. I’m with Driver Designs here for your consultation. Name’s Adam.”

* * *

 

Adam loved San Diego more than he wanted to admit. The weather was gorgeous, the air was warmer, and the beach was breezy and beautiful. And his life was blissfully free of any complications now, a welcome respite from all the drama and trouble he’d gone through in New York. He’d probably always miss the Big Apple, but it was good to have 3000 miles between there and here.

 

Sunshine filtered through the bamboo blinds of his office. In the background, phones rang and his secretary, a young kid named Alex, answered in a bright chipper voice. The chill, almost slack atmosphere of the west coast seeped into his bones and spread across his skin, warming him from the inside out. If he’d have known a change in scenery would do him this much good, he’d have moved out this way years ago. He smiles at the peal of laughter that gets closer and closer to his closed office door. Terry was back from his latest consultation, and most definitely had gotten the gig.

 

With a soft sigh he turned in his office chair and awaited the quick rap to the paned glass that signaled his partner’s arrival. And no sooner had he set the coffee on the table did the knock come and he ushered the older man inside.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

There was a soft buzz in the small office space, one that comforted Adam whenever the quiet got to be too much. He liked listening in on conversations between the designers-Terry and Kristine chatting about color schemes for some big shot in La Jolla or Alex flirting with one of the FedEx guys that regularly dropped off supplies.

 

“Probably gonna have to call Nando back and tell him to hire a few more guys. This one is gonna be huge!”

 

Adam grinned and playfully slapped Terry on the back. He was beaming, his face shining with happiness and pride. It had been a long time coming for the two of them, and whatever success one of them had passed along to the other. They weren’t stingy with their accomplishments, especially not after being friends for so long.

 

“Dude, I told you! And you were nervous as hell last night about it. What’d the director say when she saw what you had in mind?”

 

“Oh god, man, she was so excited! She asked me if I only did commercial or if I could possibly do some residential work for her and I referred her to Kristine, of course.”

 

“You’re good people. She’s gonna love that.”

 

“Oh definitely. And this is the kicker; she said she’d refer us to everyone she knew. She’s got a buddy from college who is moving into a bungalow out in Old Town way that needs some renovations.”

 

Adam nods, already scribbling down a few ideas, most of which would be set aside for other projects. It was always good to have something in mind even before he did a consult. It made the job so much easier to get started on.

 

“I’m guessing it’s an old house?”

 

Terry nods and steeples his fingers, going over the specifications that his new client had given him. “Early 20th century, probably wanting to keep the original design, that kind of thing.”

 

“Good deal. We may have to go half on that one, especially if I get this consult to commit tonight.”

 

“You’ve got one more?”

 

“Mmhm.” He was oddly excited about this one the most, only because he’d had yet to actually do a redesign from the ground up. That was usually Terry’s territory, but this was his shot to completely overhaul someone’s living space and give them a brand new start. He loved the idea. And the woman he’d talked to seemed almost in desperate need of a new start. He wondered what had gone on in her life recently to want to completely gut the house she lived in and do something drastically different.

 

“Then you better get a move on. I know it’s not New York, but San Diego rush hour traffic is still a doozy.”

 

So Adam left his cozy little East Village office, saying goodnight to his colleagues and friends as he hopped into his little Toyota SUV and headed out to Point Loma. It wasn’t a very long drive, but traffic turned a 25 minute drive into something closer to an hour and he was glad he’d taken Terry’s advice to leave a bit earlier. In the meantime, stuck on the interstate between an 18 wheeler and a sports car, he listened to his meditation tapes and practiced what he’d say once he knocked on her door.

 

Haddish. Her name was Ms. Tiffany Haddish. He had no idea what she looked like, only that one of his previous clients, Stacy Merritt, had given her his information. He liked the idea of doing all his marketing word of mouth; social media made customer service and advertisement much more daunting that it needed to be. His anxiety didn’t need any more help in crippling him and he’d been doing just fine from a few fliers and business cards. At least he could pay the bills and keep the lights at the office on. That was more than enough. And he got to do what he loved, so that too, was a plus.

 

Stacy had been an easy going woman in demeanor but in regards to design, had been one of the toughest clients he’d had in the five years he’d been doing interior decoration. Her husband was one of the most peculiar and hard to please people Adam had ever met, and he’d met many in his life. But somehow, after long nights of missing sleep and early mornings sketching and resketching and drafting, he’d come up with something both husband and wife had really enjoyed. It was a pleasure to see the whole place come together, and to see the rare smile on Ted Merritt’s face as well.

 

After an ordeal like that, he hoped Ms. Haddish was significantly easier. She definitely sounded like she’d be an amiable client over the phone, her voice sweet and lilting and warm. He could only imagine the face that would go with that voice, and had come up with a myriad of combinations and possibilities. That was another thing he liked doing when he couldn’t sleep or old memories threatened to come crashing in on the peace he’d found in San Diego. He liked imagining people and their stories and faces and putting a name to those people.

 

Once upon a time, Adam had wanted to be a playwright or an author. But once upon a time had come and gone and instead, he found his niche in the art and science of designing a home, an office, even just a closet or bathroom. It both grounded him and thrilled him and that was the kind of combination that one didn’t find very often. Writing still was a part of him, yes, but it didn’t consume him the way it once had. Now, it was simply a beloved pastime and on the rare days he had free, he spent them putting pen to paper or pulling out that old typewriter and dreaming up worlds and universes to play in.

 

Somehow in his musing, Adam had made it from his office to the subdivision Ms. Haddish lived in without truly realizing it. He shook his head to clear it from his thoughts and parked in her spacious driveway, his eyes already scoping out the large, beautiful home with appreciation. It was moderately new, probably no older than a decade and had previously belonged to a retired Padres pitcher. Adam could tell it hadn’t had much work done to it in terms of design; just from the outside he could see how bland and empty it was.

 

And it was his job to fix that, or at least he hoped.

 

He hopped out the car and up the steps to the house, ringing the doorbell with a nervous sort of energy thrumming through his body. Meeting new clients was always nerve wracking, but he almost never had a bad experience, even if he wasn’t given the job. He only had to remind himself of that; everything was going to work out okay if he just allowed it to. Adam glanced around the quiet neighborhood just as a breather, and shifted his portfolio and iPad underneath his arm.

 

“I’m coming!” he heard from the inside, and he before he could turn back to the door, it was opening. A little annoyed at himself for not being on attention and waiting, he put on his best, easy going smile, and turned to find one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. For a moment, words didn’t come to mind and instead, he was left with what he thought probably was the goofiest looking grin on his face, but somehow, he gathered his wits together enough to introduce himself.

 

“Ms. Haddish?”

 

The gorgeous woman nodded, probably not expecting him to look anything like he sounded. He knew his phone voice was deeper and richer and to be honest, she was probably looking forward to someone much more sophisticated and suave than the self professed dork standing on her porch. But then her face smoothed out into a soft smile and he felt his heart pitter patter. God, she was so pretty. It was a little overwhelming. He couldn’t help the way he smiled, crooked and a little goofy as he was struck by her beauty and her presence. This was a woman with means, a woman with intelligence and grace, he could tell.

 

But he cleared his voice and put on his professional demeanor and offered her his hand.

 

“Oh good!” he said, grimacing a bit at how eager he sounded. _Cool it, Driver. Cool it._ “I was hoping I had the right house. I’m with Driver Designs here for your consultation. Name’s Adam.”

 

Ms. Haddish smiled once more and moved aside to allow him in. “Come in Adam,” she said and he suppressed shiver of pleasure at the raspiness of her lovely voice.

 

He moved past her and caught a whiff of something sweet and sultry and had to resist the urge to linger beside her. She smelled as good as she looked. Trying desperately not to make a fool of himself he kept his mouth closed and glanced around the foyer, up to the spacious ceilings and the to the bare, almost impersonal walls. He had a blank slate before him and he could feel excitement take hold of him.

 

“Getting ideas already?” Tiffany asked, and Adam jerked his head around to glance at her, where she stood close to the door and waited for his appraisal. He couldn’t say for sure just yet what kinds of designs he could come up with for her, but he was starting to get an inkling of an idea. So he nodded and set his portfolio on the coffee table in the middle of the foyer.

 

“I’m getting a few things together. Thing is, I won’t really have anything concrete until I get to know you.”

 

The look on her face was equal parts surprised and pleased, and he forgot all about how nervous he’d been, suddenly so very eager to impress her. He had to put on the Adam that had gotten him his first job and out of all that debt, the Adam that had gotten him to where he was now. He had to charm her and charm her well.

 

“What do you want to know?” she asked him, tilting her head curiously.

 

“Your home is a reflection of you,” he began. “Your personality, your desires. So tell me, then, a little about you. Your favorites, your least favorites, your vibes, your ambitions…everything.” He wanted to know all he could about her, and he realized, as the wheels spun around in her head, that it wasn’t just because of this job either. It was when she cracked another smile, this one a little sly and wiley, did he feel all his anxiety slip away. He hoped to god he got this job. This was going to be a joy, he already could tell.

 

“Lemme start from the beginning, then,” she said finally, and she led him into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “And while we’re getting acquainted, drop the ‘miss’ shit and call me Tiffany.”

 

Oh yeah…he definitely liked her already.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated and adored! Let me know how you like the story.


End file.
